


Wake Up Wanting You

by keyandbeemagician



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Daddy Kink, Domestic Fluff, Eliot Waugh Singing, Eliot Waugh is a good dad, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Mosaic Timeline (The Magicians: A Life in the Day), mentioned - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:55:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27624383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyandbeemagician/pseuds/keyandbeemagician
Summary: After Arielle's death, Quentin goes numb. This is what happens when Quentin wakes up and feels again.
Relationships: Arielle/Quentin Coldwater, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Wake Up Wanting You

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at writing for any fandom. Please be gentle.

For a while, after Arielle died, Quentin was pretty… well… useless. It was an unkind word, but it was about the only word that could be used for it. In the weeks that followed her death, he was lucky if he could manage to get out of bed. Well… the pile of blankets on the floor at the foot of Teddy’s bed. It was only after Eliot’s gentle urging that Quentin found himself in a bath sloughing off what had to have been a month’s worth of grime. Eliot had run his fingers through his wet hair, trying to untangle the knots. It had grounded him, reminded him that he wasn’t the one who had died and that he had people who were depending on him to keep on living. After that, Q at least tried to be a functional human. He cooked, cleaned, worked on the mosaic, and spoke as few words as possible. But, he was alive. He was functioning. 

It was an accident, he would swear it. It was late summer and the air was sweet. Eliot had squeezed his shoulder when he turned in for the night leading Teddy by the hand and left him to his own devices. Quentin had let his lungs fill with clean air and starlight, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he felt… well… like himself. He smiled softly, reveling in the novelty of it, and went in search of his family. 

He stopped just outside the doorway to the cottage, hearing something he’d never heard before. Eliot was singing, something low and soft. Quentin froze, transfixed, part of his mind trying to figure out the song Eliot was singing, more of him stunned by the fact that he wasn’t more surprised than he thought he would be.

It wasn’t that Eliot didn’t have an amazing voice, nor that he never sang. In fact, he frequently hummed and sang tunes when he cleaned the cottage, or even with Quentin was cleaning and he would rather spend time watching him than working on the mosaic. But, over the years, Quentin had learned to tune it out. Perhaps he shouldn’t have. Quiet as he could be, he peeked into the cottage.

The sight would melt anyone’s heart. Eliot was stood by the fire, the glow of it sending his features into sharp contrast. He gently held Teddy in his arms. Well, as in his arms as he could. One arm tucked under his bum, the other around his back as he swayed and rocked. Teddy’s legs dangled around Eliot’s hips still pudgy with toddler fat, his fingers wrapped in Eliot’s cotton shirt, his cheek to Eliot’s shoulder and face mashed against his neck. His chestnut hair falling over his closed eyes, he was already asleep or near enough to it that Eliot could have easily left him in his bed to dream.

But, there they stood, singing softly and rocking as night really well and truly set in. Teddy snuffled softly and rubbed his face further into Eliot’s neck causing him to laugh softly. It was only then that he laid the child down, tucking his bear into his arms, pushing back his hair and kissing his forehead softly. Quentin jerked back, not wanting to be caught, only to step on one of Teddy’s wooden toys and fall on his ass on the stone pathway.

Fortunately, Teddy was asleep enough not to stir, though Quentin had barely righted himself by the time Eliot stepped out and closed the door. “You okay Q?” he asked softly.

“It’s not important,” said Q dusting off his pants before bending down to pick up the offending toy.

Eliot took it from him. “Something must be bugging you if you fell on your ass to avoid talking about it.” He opened the cottage door again and set the toy on a shelf, then closed it one more time and led the way to the daybed in the garden.

“I didn’t know you sang to him,” said Quentin as he climbed onto the mattress curling his legs up and wrapping his arms around on of the pillows looking like a koala bear.

“Obviously,” smirked Eliot, “My Mom used to sing to me when I was little. It was one of the few things she did right”

Quentin swallowed. “You’re really good.”

Eliot shrugged. “I wanted to do choir for about five minutes before my parents decided that it wasn’t the right place for me and I had to be in Future Farmers of America instead.”

“I believe we’ve already established that your parents were a bundle of poor decisions.” to put it lightly.

Eliot settled himself onto the bed as well laying back and looking up at the stars, sprawled out at Quentin’s side. Quentin started to speak and for once swallowed it back. There was no need to point out that Eliot was already doing better than his father and mother had. Instead, he poked at Eliot with his toe and smiled as Eliot turned on his side to face him. He just sat there for a moment, Eliot taking hold of his toes and rubbing his thumb over the sole of his foot for what felt like an eternity. Quentin wiggled his toes and smiled again, and it was like something unlocked in him, and in Eliot. 

Slowly he unwound from his pillow hostage and scooted down to fit his body along Eliot’s. With slow and deliberate movements Quentin traced his fingers over the side of El’s face tracing the lines the fire had illuminated so brightly. Slowly Eliot took that same hand in his and drew it to his mouth kissing the palm softly. 

Q smiled and tugged him forward and kissed him. “Don’t overthink it” He muttered, echoing words from years before.

“If you insist,” Eliot replied, before kissing him back.

Q cupped his neck and deepened the kiss, something warm and needy in his touch, then moaned softly as they broke apart. “Teddy’ll be asleep for a while,” he said, turning to pull Eliot over him on the bed.

“Don’t be surprised if he comes looking for us later,” smiled Eliot following where he was lead

“That’s later,” said Q, leaning up for another kiss.

Eliot ran his fingers through Quentin’s hair. “We don’t have to if you…”

“Oh I want to,” said Q. “It’s like I just woke up… I…”

He tugged at El’s shirt and he lifted it over his head quickly, avoiding words. Eliot let Quentin undress him, let him kiss his skin as he exposed it until he reached down with a smile… like he finally believed Quentin, and tugged Q’s shirt over his head, kissing his shoulder.

Quentin brought Eliot’s face back up and went back to kissing his lips and they stayed like that for a while, just tasting one another, hands sliding across bare skin or tangling in hair. The warmth of their bodies pressed against one another. Quentin could feel Eliot’s arousal against his thigh. Between that and the kissing, Quentin tingled with anticipation, a type of high he’d never imagined.

It was Eliot that took the next step, undoing and pushing down their bottoms and pants. But, not one to be outdone once he put his mind to something, Quentin wrapped a hand around Eliot's cock and gave him a stroke, then raised his head, smiled at Eliot, and moved down the bed. Eliot moaned as he wrapped his mouth around him.

Quentin pushed aside any other thoughts of the mosaic, letting himself enjoy something for the first time in a very long time. He’d tried to stop thinking about this. Was so determined to live in the ashes after Arielle. Why did he deserve to be happy when he had taken her for granted.. hadn’t loved her enough in their short years? But God… he had never stopped loving Eliot. Had never stopped loving this, needing this. And, when he saw the love of his life holding their child it had all hit him like a freight train. He hadn’t been loving Eliot instead of Arielle… he had loved them both and only one of them had died. He wasn’t alone, and acting like he was… It was punishing Eliot along with himself. And that wasn’t anything that Eliot had deserved. He should have been treasured. He should have been held. He shouldn’t have been alone. El had lost someone too. So, Quentin tried to let himself free. To show Eliot everything and lay his cards out. He ran fingers through the hair just above Eliot’s pubic bone, quiet moans escaping from both of them.

“Q,” Eliot whispered, after a few minutes.

Lowering his head again and shuffling up a bit better see Eliot’s face, Quentin wiped his mouth and looked at him in the darkness.

“I missed you, I’m glad you’re back” said Eliot, with calm certainty.

Q nodded and got out of bed to finish undressing. Eliot kicked his pants off the rest of the way. Q fetched the lube quickly praying he wouldn’t wake their son and scar him for life with the sight of his naked and aroused father sneaking through the cottage, before he went back to bed and to kissing Eliot as he dripped lube onto his fingers and opened himself slowly.

It had been so long since he had been touched like this. He arched and rocked as he straddled Eliot, and nearly cried when Eliot reaching down to stroke his cock. Q groaned and dropped his head to nibble Eliot’s throat and collarbone nearly dizzy with want. “Please,” he said quietly.

Eliot moved between his thighs. He kissed Quentin one more time before lining up and sinking into him. They groaned together, moving in perfect sync. Quentin held Eliot close, reveling in the sensation of being filled by him, the way his cock dragged against Eliot’s stomach. Q’s breath came in harsh pants as he moved.

It took little time to find their release after that, El filling him with a quiet moan, Q following just after, leaving fingerprints on his skin. They lay in the darkness together for long minutes, hearts still racing, the enormity of what they’d rediscovered sinking in around them.

El moved first, kissing Q and carefully pulling out. “We need to clean up.”

Quentin nodded and followed him to the little basin at the side of the cottage. They wiped each other down, then pulled on their discarded clothes to sleep in. Finally, they went back to bed together. Quentin curled up against Eliot, perhaps sill in a bit of post-coital need. Quentin sighed as he settled.

Eliot wrapped his arms around Q and kissed his temple. “Q?”

“Mmm?”

“Not that I don’t love this… that I don’t love you… but um… what was that about?”

“I just… I wanted to love the father of my child, okay?”

Eliot laughed and tucked Quentin’s head under his chin on the pillow. 

“Is this an emerging Daddy kink, Coldwater?” he teased causing Quentin to squirm in irritation in his arms (never hard enough to actually break free)

“It’s a you kink, asshole. I… I missed you too”

Eliot let him quiet then, tucking his hand under Quentin’s shirt and tracing his belly with long fingers. The night air warm and soothing on their cooling skin. Just as Quentin started to drift off himself, there was the sound of little feet on gravel and grass. Teddy sucked his thumb as he looked at them, then climbed up and tucked himself against Eliot’s other side, looking at his father over Eliot’s shoulder for a long moment before closing his eyes.

“I’m surrounded by Coldwaters” Eliot grumbled. 

“Coldwater-Waughs” Q clarified settling further into Eliot’s arms “Get used to it… daddy”

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this follow me on tumblr (same name). We might just get along!


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